


The Witching Hour

by Nimbex



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, Magic, Magical Realism, Minor Romance, Oral Sex, Parallel Universes, Porn With Plot, Reader-Insert, Summoning Circles, Telepathy, Vaginal Sex, Witch of the Wilds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27252340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimbex/pseuds/Nimbex
Summary: The reader is summoned to another world to meet the Witch of the Wilds. However, contracts in her world are a little different than what we're used to...
Relationships: Angela "Mercy" Ziegler/Reader
Kudos: 26





	1. Halloween Night

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the result of myself and another writer challenging each other to write a short story in the month of October using the Overwatch Halloween costumes and personas as inspiration. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Note that (Name) is your name.

**Chapter 1: Halloween Night**

You turn a corner and lob a grenade, rebounding it off of a wall around another corner further along a dusty desert street. A satisfying _WHAM_ echoes off the sandy tan walls, and a corpse wearing powered armor flails through the air into view around the corner. You smile to yourself as the body encounters a wall with a comical _SMACK_ , then slides to the ground, a pair of weapons and a small pile of grenades appearing next to it as it comes to rest. In the bottom corner of your heads-up display, a number increments from 24 to 25.

“Game… Over!” A deep movie-announcer style voice booms in the air and a score table appears as the sandstone and concrete of the game level fade to black.

The score table shows your username at the top next to the winning score of 25. A handful of short messages appear in the chat window, most some variant on the time-honored “GG”. You glance at the clock, then with a sigh you bid farewell to the people you’d been playing with tonight and close the game. You’ve been distracted trying to beat a specific person on the enemy team for the last few matches and you’ve lost track of time, but your body immediately begins to feel tired the moment you see the numbers on the clock, as if the late hour hadn’t been real until you confirmed it visually.

 _How did it get so late so fast?_ You wonder to yourself. It seems like just minutes since the last time you’d checked the clock.

You note in amusement tinged with a hint of bitterness that tonight doesn’t really _feel_ like Halloween. It’s not like you went to any parties or watched scary movies or anything; you didn’t even get any trick-or-treaters. You lift a slat on the blinds in your window and look outside, seeing black tree branches glowing faintly in the silvery light of the rising full moon. Only a few leaves are still on the trees, most having colored and fallen to litter the ground in small piles and drifts against the fence along one side of your front yard.

 _At least it *looks* like Halloween_. You think as you lower your hand from the blinds and move off to get ready for bed.

Fifteen minutes later your teeth are brushed, you’re wearing a loose set of long pajama pants and a white t-shirt, as well as a pair of socks to keep your feet warm, and you’re huddled under the blankets of your bed idly checking a few things on your cell phone before committing fully to sleep. You’re still not quite used to the crisp chill in the air that the Autumn weather has brought, and you pull your legs up toward your chest, your height keeping you from fully stretching out on the bed, lest one of your feet stick out from under the blankets. You _could_ turn up the heat in your apartment, but the thermostat is outside your warm comfy blankets in the cold other room, and may as well be installed on the International Space Station at this point as far as you’re concerned.

As time passes, your body heat begins to warm up the mattress, pillows, and blankets, and you start to feel your eyelids growing heavy. As your mind grows fuzzy and your attention begins to drift, you notice a pool of moonlight on the floor of the room, skeletal tree-branch shadows crossing it like cracks in a concrete sidewalk. Your eyes slip closed, and you feel the familiar sensation like you’re beginning to float weightlessly. Your fingers loosen around your phone, not quite dropping it but not gripping it either.

You wrinkle your forehead, coming back to consciousness slowly. You aren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep but something feels off. You open one eye to… light? Your foggy mind takes a moment to realize that you’re looking at the moon shining in through your window; evidently as the moon has crossed the sky, the pool of light has moved across your room, and now the full moon is shining right into your face.

You squint up at the moon, and as you do so, the light seems to shift, gradually changing to a more yellow-gold hue. The moon doesn’t actually grow in the sky, but you feel like it’s leaning down to inspect you, seeming to fill your entire field of vision. You also feel a strange sensation inside yourself. Starting with your open eye, the light seems to pour into you, and you can _feel_ faint tingles as it branches inside you, sending tendrils into your brain and throughout your body like the roots of a plant questing through the soil for nutrients.

 _I’m still asleep._ You think lazily, taking the sensations in stride, unconcerned as you feel tendrils of light trickling through your body. _I’m having some weird dream where the moon is analyzing me. I wonder what that says about my psyche._ You feel the electric feather-touch of one of the tendrils of moonlight brush down to your groin, where it seems to linger appreciatively. _…okay, maybe I *don’t* want to know what this dream says about my psyche._

You feel a sudden pulse from the light, and although it doesn’t actually make an audible sound, you have the distinct impression of a _ding!_ like the chime produced by the wind-up timer on your toaster-oven when your pop-tarts are finished. You feel a sense of… completion. In your mind’s eye, you can almost see a pencil placing a checkmark in the last of a long column of boxes, and the sensation of the moonlight pulses again inside you, this time feeling almost like a friendly hand-shake.

 _I guess the moon likes me._ You think dryly, still smirking at the strangeness of the dream. _I feel like I just passed some kind of test or-_

Everything turns inside out.

You don’t know how else to describe it; for a brief instant, it feels as if _everything_ around you is stretching into itself, each object and surface pulling into a hole inside its center of gravity and inverting. You feel your mattress shrink and writhe for a second, then it inverts and expands outwards into a stone floor. The walls invert, the drywall shrinking away from the window and door frames for an instant to reveal a chaotic shifting landscape outside before expanding back outward into a wooden wall. Some objects shrink and vanish entirely, while others swirl up from pinpricks and fold out into furniture around you. You feel the lurching sensation you get sometimes when you barely start to fall asleep and then jerk awake, your body twitching as if to recover from losing your balance.

You sit up with a start as the instant fades, and you find yourself in a completely new place. The new room around you feels like it could have been pulled from any number of fantasy RPG’s; three walls are made of raw wood boards fitted tightly together and set into thick logs at the corners of the room. The final wall is made of mortared stones, and curves slightly. Soft warm light comes from a series of what appear to be oil lamps set high on the walls at various points around the room. The wood-and-iron furnishings appear standard for some kind of bedroom: a bed (obviously), an armoire, a chest, a chair and table, a stand with a mirror. There are a few strange devices you can’t identify, one glowing with a strange green light, another consisting of several metal rings rotating around one another on different axes. 

Looking down, you see that you’re sitting in the center of a circular pattern of runes and complex interweaving geometric shapes painted onto the grey stone of the floor. The symbols glow faintly yellow-gold, the same color the moon had turned just before your night had gotten… weird. You’re increasingly less and less sure that this is a dream; you normally wake up shortly after realizing you’re in a dream, not to mention that off-balance lurch you felt as the room inverted around you, which should have kicked you forcefully back into wakefulness. There’s also a lot more detail than you’re usually aware of in a dream.

You can feel the worn-smooth texture of the stone beneath your hand in perfect detail, and the room _smells_ different. There’s a faint tang of ozone in the air, but you can smell a mixture of rich wood, worked leather, oiled metal, and a faint sweeter smell like vanilla and cinnamon. The normal background susurrus of distant traffic to which you’ve grown accustomed after spending so long in the city is gone, and instead of the raucous sounds of laughter or clanking of dishes that would indicate that you’re in an inn or tavern, there’s a deep stillness. It reminds you of nights spent camping in the wilderness with only the faint whooshing of wind in trees outside for ambient noise.

You take in all of these details in just a handful of seconds, your mind racing as it tries to make sense of what’s going on. You push yourself upright, intending to walk around and explore or perhaps to look out the arched window casting moonlight (normal blue-silver now) onto the cream-colored sheets of the bed. You realize you’re still holding your cell phone, but a quick glance shows that you have no service so you put the device to sleep and tuck it into your pocket. However, as soon as you stand you hear a voice from behind you.

“Hmmm, it worked.” The unseen speaker observes. The voice is feminine, but pitched low and purring, the cadence haughty and commanding. You spin and notice someone sitting in a chair in a darkened corner of the room. She evidently hadn’t registered to you when you glanced that way before because of the darker shadows. The woman stands and walks up to the edge of the circle of glowing golden symbols on the floor, stepping into the light. 

She has blonde hair, pale skin, and eyes of a steely light blue glinting at you with a calculating look from underneath the brim of a large hat. The hat appears to have once been pointed on top, but the conical peak has folded down to the back with apparent use. The rest of her outfit is a mixture of anachronistic strangeness, and, to your surprise, feminine allure.

She’s wearing a brown and red high-collared cape-like jacket with short sleeves ending just below her shoulders in a triangular pattern of fabric tassels. The cape-jacket is open in front, revealing a matching corset-like garment with a top like a dress, but a bottom cut high to expose the woman’s hips to either side, but draping down between her legs nearly to the floor. The dress barely manages to remain modest with the amount of hip and breast showing at its periphery, and you only manage to avoid staring at the exposed skin with difficulty. She’s wearing elbow-length brown deer-skin gloves on her hands, and thigh-high deerskin leggings, as well as some kind of thickly-bound book tied into a ringed belt at her waist.

The woman pushes aside the long bangs on the right side of her face, then looks you up and down, appearing pleased with what she sees. She eyes you with a lofty expression for a moment, then gestures toward you with one hand, the move imperious and almost courtly, as if this woman is only now deigning to give you permission to speak.

“You must have questions.” She murmurs, her tone faintly bemused. She looks up to meet your eyes with a slight grin at her blatantly-obvious assertion. “Please, ask them.”


	2. The Witch of the Wilds

**Chapter 2: The Witch of the Wilds**

“Uh…” you say, still disoriented from your sudden relocation. You’re also somewhat distracted by the woman’s outfit, which exposes just enough to make you _really_ want to see more.

“That’s not a question.” The woman scolds, wagging a finger and still grinning at you.

“Yeah, I guess not…” you acknowledge with a hint of irritation. “Okay, how about we start these three,” you hold up three fingers and tick them off one-by-one. “Who are you, where am I, and how did I get here?”

“Predictable enough lines of inquiry.” The woman replies with an understanding nod. “Introductions then: My name is Angela, although people of this land are fond of calling me The Witch of the Wilds. You are in my-”

“Witch!?” you blurt out, eying her pointy hat with alarm. Suddenly the strange symbols and devices make more sense, although you aren’t sure you like what they imply. 

“Yes, _Witch._ ” Angela confirms with a kind of tired irritation, waving her hand in a “ _Can we move this along please?”_ motion. “Spells, potions, the occasional _curse_ … the whole thing. This will go a lot faster if you wait until I’ve answered the questions you’ve already asked before posing more.” She fixes you with a pointed stare, and you nod obediently, letting her continue. “As I was saying, you are in my tower. I drew you here from your world using a summoning ritual of my own design.” At this she gestures to the symbols on the floor.

You reach down to touch one of the symbols, but you encounter resistance as if your hand is hitting an invisible pane of glass. You feel at the air around you, and discover that you’re trapped inside the circle by an invisible barrier, perhaps four feet in diameter. The witch Angela smirks at you as you prod at the invisible force-field.

“Yes,” she says smugly, “You’re trapped in there until I release you.” This heightens your anxiety as to where this situation is going, and something she said earlier jumps to the front of your mind.

“Wait,” you say, holding your forehead. “Did you say you pulled me here from _my_ world? Are you implying that we’re not on my _world_ anymore?”

“I’d say I’m doing more than _implying_ it; I’m stating it outright.” She answers with a raised eyebrow. “That having been said, perhaps ‘World’ is the wrong word; ‘Universe’ or ‘Reality’ might be more appropriate.” She shrugs.

“So, you summoned me to a different plane of existence…” You murmur, thinking.

“Oooh, good one!” she interrupts with a clap of her hands, evidently liking your choice of words.

You pause, eying her. Up until now, this Angela has struck you as some sort of power-tripping poised noblewoman with her haughty speech and imperious gaze. However, this last statement was delivered with less composure and more girlish excitement. Her speech up until now has struck you as odd, but you’d been assuming that the oddness owed to how antiquated her speech has been. Now you begin to suspect that it’s because she’s forcing the dialect. Angela’s expression quickly returns to her previous lofty stare, but you get the impression that this too is a forced affectation. She waves for you to finish your thought.

“…so, you summoned me here so you could do… what?” You ask nervously, “Am I a slave? A test subject? Are you going to turn me into a zombie or something?”

“What!? No!” Angela responds with surprised revulsion, her mask of dignified poise slipping again. “Why would I want a _zombie_ drooling around my tower? I brought you here to make a _contract_ with you!” She folds her arms, looking away, and looking little insulted for a moment. “Just because I’m the Witch of the _Wilds_ doesn’t mean I’m completely uncivilized.” She grumbles. 

“A contract…” you muse, “Like for me to give you my first-born or something?” At this, Angela whirls to face you, eyes wide with shock.

“ _What!?_ ” she asks, clearly disturbed. “What kind of witch do you think I _am_!?”

“I don’t know… the _witchy_ kind!?” you retort with exasperation, throwing your hands up in the air, then gesturing at the magic circle. “You _did_ summon me here against my will and trap me.” Angela glares at you for a moment, then takes a deep breath, apparently to calm herself.

“I suppose it’s only natural that your society would make up fantastical stories about my kind, having no magic of your own.” Angela allows, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. She looks back up at you with an expression that, while not completely apologetic, at least appears somewhat abashed. “Perhaps we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot; if I agree to release you from the circle, will you agree to listen to what I have to say, and stop making monstrous assertions about me?”

“Swear that you’ll return me to my world when we’re through, even if I don’t agree to your terms.” You demand.

“Fine.” Angela acquiesces with a dismissive wave of her hand, “I was planning to do that anyway.”

She kneels and reaches down to touch the glowing runes on the floor, and the light bleeds out of them. You stretch out a hand after a moment, and find the barrier no longer blocks your movements. You take a deliberate step outside the perimeter of the circle, then pull out your phone and point the camera at the runes, intending to get a picture of the bizarre scene. When you do this, Angela springs to her feet and holds a hand toward you. Menacing purple lightning sparkles between the tips of her fingers.

“If you attack me, I _will_ defend myself.” She warns, her eyes locked on your phone.

“I’m… just taking a picture.” You say in surprise, holding up a hand to forestall whatever defensive actions Angela has planned.

“You’ll _take_ nothing.” Angela responds stubbornly.

“No, not ‘take’ like that, just…” you wave her over to look at your phone. She cautiously steps closer, seeming much less imperious now that you’re no longer trapped in the summoning circle. You bring up a picture of a sunset on your phone and show it to Angela. “See?”

“It’s… a device for recording images?” She murmurs, sounding curious. You suppose that makes sense; this world doesn’t appear to have a very high level of technology, and your cell phone is probably as magical to Angela as the summoning circle is to you.

“Well, it does other things too, but I don’t think the other functions will work… uh, _here._ ” you explain. Then, an idea occurs to you. “Can I take a picture of you?”

“Record an image of me?” she asks uncertainly. Angela pauses for a moment, then nods. “Very well.”

“Okay, smile!” you say as you point the camera at her. Angela complies, revealing a surprisingly cute nervous-looking smile. You take the picture, then turn the phone around and show Angela the photo of her on the screen.

“How quaint.” She says, looking at the picture of herself, then self-consciously brushing at her bangs. “Take what pictures you wish, but do not let this distract you from our contract.”

_Not very impressed by the camera._ You think dryly. You’d imagined her eyes going wide looking at the hand-sized computer, but evidently she considers it merely a trinket compared to her magic. You snap a few photos of the room and the summoning circle, then tuck your phone back in your pocket and turn to face Angela again.

“Okay, let’s start at the beginning,” you say, holding your chin with one hand as you think. “Why did you summon me here for a contract in the first place?”

“I need a ...guardian.” Angela answers slowly, as if she’d had a different word in mind, but had changed it at the last second. You glance down at yourself. You aren’t in _terrible_ shape, but you’re not exactly Conan the Barbarian either.

“Um, I’m not exactly the warrior type.” You explain, feeling slightly self-conscious. “I don’t know how good of a bodyguard I’d be...” Angela waves a hand dismissively.

“Physical strength isn’t important; Magic can augment your physical attributes easily.” Angela explains, her tone carrying a faint note of condescension, as if she thinks this should be obvious. “No, what I was searching for was your mind, your heart… I selected you based on more … _intangible_ qualities. Most of your physical attributes are irrelevant.”

“Wait,” you interrupt with an upraised hand. “You _selected_ me?”

“Well, my _spell_ did.” Angela corrects, gesturing to the complex summoning circle. She points to a grouping of runes inside one of a dozen or so small circles inscribed around the perimeter of the spell. “Courage.” She translates. “Honor.” She says, pointing to another inscribed group of runes. “Loyalty, Quickness of Thought, Shrewdness,” she continues as she points to more groups of runes in sequence. She points to the next one, pauses, then skips a few before continuing “Kindness,”

“Wait, what about the ones you skipped?” you ask, pointing to the runes she passed over during her explanation.

“Those!?” she asks with a slight squeak. Her cultivated façade of dignity falters, and she blushes. “They, um… They’re not important at the moment.” Unless you’re very much mistaken, the Witch of the Wilds is _embarrassed._ She glances at you for an instant, then looks away, not meeting your eyes. “They’re for… certain physical qualities.”

“Okay…” you say, filing _that_ away as something to bring up again later, “Why didn’t you summon someone from your own world though? Surely you didn’t have to reach into an alternate _reality_ to find someone who met these requirements.”

“Oh, that’s simple,” Angela says with a wave of the hand, looking relieved to be discussing a different subject. “Beings from a universe without magic, or who have never used magic before tend to be more receptive to it.” She explains and gestures to you. “If I give you a potion to permanently enhance your strength or speed, it will work far better for you than it will for anyone of this world.”

“That’s… interesting.” You muse. “Why is that?”

“There are a variety of theories, but the prevailing school of thought is that it’s a type of tolerance intrinsic to beings who live their entire lives around magic. You don’t have this tolerance; thus, magic is more powerful for you.”

“I can accept that, I guess,” You say, looking at Angela suspiciously, “But why do you need a… what did you say? A ‘Guardian’?” Angela hugs herself for a moment before responding in a quiet voice.

“As the Witch of the Wilds,” she begins slowly, choosing her words carefully. “I am somewhat feared by the populace of more civilized areas. This fear keeps some at bay, but it also forces me to live alone, far away from towns and villages. I’m not without defenses, but neither am I without enemies. If they were to try to ambush me in the wilderness, I would prefer to be able to call on help.”

“And I’d be that help?” you ask uncertainly.

“Correct.” Angela says, “If you agree to my contract, I’ll be able to summon you at will, without need for such a complex ritual. I can strengthen you with spells and potions such that you need not fear combat, even with another Otherworlder.”

“There are others?” you ask, your eyebrows shooting up with surprise. “Other people summoned from my world?”

“Yours, and many others.” The witch confirms with a distant look in her eyes. “Be thankful *I* was the one to summon you; many summoners think nothing of pressing an Otherworlder into service with tortures or magical curses which permanently suppress your free will.”

“And you’re… _not_ going to do anything like that… right?” you ask nervously. Angela turns and favors you with a sinister grin for a moment, but it swiftly goes back to being good-natured. There’s also something … _else_ in her eyes that you can’t confidently identify; a kind of suppressed longing or hunger. 

“I _could_ …” she replies, “But I have… other methods. I think mine will work more effectively while remaining… agreeable to you.” You eye the witch for a long moment, but aside from a slight blush, she seems perfectly sincere.

_Am I really considering this?_ you think to yourself. _I mean, it’s kind of *cool* that I’m in an alternate *reality* right now, but what if I get killed fighting this woman’s battles for her? How do I know this isn’t some kind of trick?_ However, although a part of you is hesitant, a much larger part of you has already decided to accept any reasonable deal the witch offers you. At the end of the day, you’re too intrigued by the possibility of experiencing _more_ of this world to pass up her offer.

“Okay.” You announce after another few moments of thought. “I’ll sign your contract.”

“Sign?” Angela responds, confused.


	3. The Contract

**Chapter 3: The Contract**

“Um… yes?” you answer, confused yourself and giving Angela the side-eye “You know: a big piece of paper with terms written on it, I write my name, you write your name… sign the contract?”

“What would that accomplish?” she asks, looking at you as if you’re stupid. You realize contracts like what you’re describing only really work when there are lawyers around to witness and interpret them, and courts to enforce them. You’d been thinking maybe there would be something more magical than _lawyers_ involved in this world, but you were still expecting a piece of paper at some point. “I suppose I would like to know your name though.” Angela adds in a softer voice.

“Oh!” you gasp with a start as you realize you’ve never really introduced yourself. “I’m (Full Name), nice to meet you Angela.”

Angela gasps, raising a hand to her mouth.

“What?” you ask, concerned that you just did something rude.

“Was that your _full name_?” Angela asks, eyes wide. “From your own lips?”

“Yes…” you answer warily. “Why, is that bad?”

“A being’s full name, given from their own lips is a powerful sign of trust.” The witch explains, “Magic can be used in conjunction with a full name to bind a being to a caster’s will. You must be careful not to give such a tool away so freely in the future.”

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you realize that when the Witch of the Wilds introduced herself, she only gave her _first_ name. Maybe that’s why she was so quick to add the title; in a world where full names have magical properties, titles are obviously more important than they are in your world. You blush at the mistake, and notice Angela blushing as well, although you aren’t sure why.

“I have no wish to hold such power over you one-sidedly.” Angela announces after a moment. “In the interest of equal exchange, and as a sign of good faith, my name is…” she pauses for a moment, then continues, speaking each word with obvious difficulty, “Angela. Ziegler.”

As Angela says her name, you feel a kind of _sssnap_ inside your mind. The syllables seem to connect to the person in front of you in a profound way. By thinking them, you can fix Angela in your mind with preternatural clarity. Normal association would call up the image of a person’s face or a sense of who they are when you think about their name, but this is orders of magnitude more intense; you can see the exact color of Angela’s eyes in your head, you can picture her so perfectly that you could count the strands of her hair if you were so inclined. The image begins to fade after a few seconds, but thinking of her name refreshes it to full clarity.

“That’s…” you begin, then realize you don’t have a good word to express the feeling. “…neat.” Making your best attempt at courtly manners, you give Angela a formal bow, and add “It’s nice to meet you Angela.”

“Such a gentleman.” Angela purrs, smiling. “It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance as well (Name). Shall we proceed?”

“Sure,” you agree, rubbing the back of your neck. “What comes next?”

“A ritual to ensure your loyalty.” Angela replies. She reaches to her side and brings up the book hanging there, then begins leafing through it. You see page after page of intricate geometrical designs and runes; spells obviously.

“Um…” you murmur nervously as she flips through the spellbook, “When you say ‘ensure my loyalty’, what exactly do you mean?” Angela looks up at you with a smirk.

“Probably nothing as frightening as what you seem to be imagining.” She chuckles, evidently guessing your line of thought from your expression. “I think you’ll find the process quite enjoyable…” She pauses, eying you up and down with an unmistakable expression of appreciation, then adds, “…I know _I_ certainly will.” Your eyebrows shoot up, and you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment at the tone of Angela’s statement.

“Um,” you begin, not exactly sure how to broach this subject. “Could you go into a little more… _detail_ about what’s involved in this ritual?” Angela pauses leafing through her spellbook and looks up at you for a moment, then shrugs.

“Very well; it’s not as if I could conceal the process from you in any case.” She brushes a lock of hair out of her eyes, and then continues, blushing faintly. “The first step is a spell to link our emotions and sensations. Temporarily, of course, but it’s both necessary for the ritual, and quite _fun_ , if I do say so myself.”

“Link our emotions?” you murmur, trying to picture what that would feel like and failing. “Like telepathy?”

“Emotions and _sensations_.” Angela corrects, “…and no. Telepathy links _thoughts._ When the spell is active, you will feel my emotions overlaid with your own, and you will feel an echo of any strong sensations I feel. Whenever our emotions or sensations are the same, the experience will be twice as intense.”

“So, if I burn my hand… you’ll feel the pain?” You ask, still trying to picture it. “And if I’m sad, you’ll feel sad?”

“A very _negative_ grasp of the concept,” Angela chides you, “But more-or-less accurate. You’ll find that it’s a very useful tool for building rapport and trust, especially when combined with the… s-second step in the ritual.” Angela stutters a bit at the end of this last sentence, and although her expression remains carefully neutral, her blush intensifies. As she’s gotten more familiar with you, her forced affectation has continued to slip, and she now seems less composed, but more relatable.

“What’s the second step?” you ask, giving Angela the side-eye again, not failing to notice her blush and sudden nervousness.

“We… um…” She stammers, losing even more of her imperious manner as she grows visibly flustered. “We… make love.”

_I wasn’t expecting *THAT*._ You think, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Suddenly Angela’s occasional blushes and embarrassment make more sense.

“We… have _sex!?_ ” you blurt out in surprise, your face flushing red-hot at the thought. Your eyes traitorously flick to the bare skin of Angela’s hips revealed by the cuts at the sides of her dress.

“Y-yes.” Angela confirms. She keeps glancing at you, then looking away, unable to maintain eye contact due to her embarrassment. You might laugh, except you’re having the same problem yourself. “If th-that’s agreeable to you? You don’t have a l-lover back in your world, do you? The spell was supposed to ch-check for that…”

“N-no, I’m…” you begin with a calming gesture, then pause. “Wait, your spell picked me because I’m single? Was that one of the sets of symbols you didn’t explain?”

“Of course!” Angela says intensely, as if this should be obvious to you. “I couldn’t very well… I won’t… infringe upon a man who’s already bonded to another woman. I wouldn’t _want_ the kind of man who would do such a thing in the _first_ place.”

“Okay, okay,” you soothe, raising a hand in response to her sudden agitation. “That’s fine, I was just surprised. What were the other symbols for?”

“Th-the other symbols?” Angela asks. Eyes going wide again, her face turns beet red. “Uh-uhm… they’re… they’re for…” she grips the fabric at the sides of her dress and hangs her head in embarrassment, definitely not meeting your eyes now. She mumbles a quick sentence by way of an answer. “They’reForYourSizeAndSkill.”

“Size and skill?” you ask, feeling confused. “I thought magic would take care of my physical attributes in combat?”

“N-not …for combat.” Angela mutters, still not looking at you.

“Well, then what…?” you begin, then stop as you realize what she’s trying to imply. “…oh.”

“I… I just thought…” Angela mumbles, fidgeting uncomfortably, “If we were going to… make love… then it should be… well… I should have a good time too. I put in a few extra parameters based on what sounded… like fun.” She looks up at you, and you’re briefly afraid she’s going to faint from embarrassment; you’re pretty close to doing so yourself.

“Y-your spell… it could detect …that?” you ask, trying and failing to sound conversational. You remember the tingle in your groin as the spell evaluated you. “I… I guess I should be flattered.”

“Y-you should be very proud.” Angela mumbles with a nod of agreement. “Shall we p-proceed, or are there any further details you wish to clarify?”

You feel light-headed and a part of you urges you to work out the details _later_ , but you force yourself to focus. You think for a moment, envisioning yourself being summoned. You can picture several disastrous scenarios, and you decide to ask about them before you get distracted by… other things.

“I have a few questions about how the summoning will work.” You answer Angela, rubbing at your cheeks to try and dispel some of your blush. “What if I’m engaged in a difficult or dangerous task in my world when I’m summoned? Will I show up to a fight unarmed? What happens if I’m injured or killed here?” Angela looks relieved to be discussing practical matters, and favors you with a condescending look.

“What kind of amateur witch do you take me for?” she mutters, “To answer your first question, time flows much differently here than in your world. The two universes aren’t part of the same time-stream, so you could spend a hundred years here, and someone watching you in your world would barely register a flicker of your disappearance.”

“Will I age?” you ask, imagining reappearing in your world as an old man.

“Only if you _want_ to~.” Angela purrs, then shrugs, “Benefits of working for a witch.”

“Wait…” you say, realizing something, “If a hundred years in this world is only a blink in my world, won’t this entire place turn to dust after like a day in my world?” Angela smirks at you.

“ _Different_ time streams.” She explains, emphasizing the first word. “They aren’t connected like that. Time moves normally for both of us until I summon you. When you’re pulled out of your own time stream, it essentially stops. When I send you back, you return to the empty void in your time stream where I originally pulled you out.”

“That’s bizarre.” You mumble, trying to get your head around the concept, and Angela shrugs, her expression seeming to say “ _What? Did you *expect* universe-hopping to be simple and intuitive?”_

“To answer your other two questions,” Angela continues, “I’ll add a component to the summoning that will equip you with a weapon and armor as you arrive, so you won’t need to fight empty-handed. Any injuries sustained here _will_ transfer back to your world, but I can heal… pretty much anything to which you could be subjected.”

“That all sounds… reasonable.” You say, trying and failing to find any other concerns. You admit to yourself that you were already sold on the idea, but you do feel better having assuaged a few lingering concerns. You meet Angela’s eyes and nod, then add “I accept the terms of your contract.”

“Zuper!” Angela replies, her accent distorting the word. She flips her spell book open again, then holds up a page for you to see. There’s another complex-looking magic circle inked onto the page, this one with two empty holes about an inch in diameter at the 12:00 and 6:00 positions. “Place a finger in the blank space at the bottom.” Angela instructs, then holds the book flat between the two of you with the page facing up.

You touch the indicated position with your index finger, and Angela does likewise with the empty space on the opposite side of the circle. As she does so, the plain black ink lines of the spell begin to glow, red at first, but quickly shifting to a brilliant yellow-gold like metal heating up in a fire. You feel a moment of dizziness, and then the magic fades, and Angela closes the book, nodding to herself. After a moment, you begin to feel the spell taking effect.

At first, you don’t notice anything beyond a faint feeling of light-headedness. Then, building slowly, you feel a sense of nervous eagerness. You’d been focused on trying to detect the effects of the spell, and your own emotion had been mostly curiosity, so the eagerness and nervousness must be coming from Angela. The emotion seems to come from inside you though; you would never have guessed it was external if Angela hadn’t explained it to you.

Remembering what you and Angela are supposed to do _next_ , the nervous eagerness grows much more intense as your own emotions match hers. The effect of the double-strength emotion is a little overwhelming, and you sway a little bit, heart thumping in your chest. A sense of mixed humor and relief fills you, and you turn to Angela just in time to see her smile at you.

“I guess you’re just as nervous about this as I am.” Angela muses, smiling shyly at you.

“Y-yeah.” You stammer, and feel a sense of appreciation; Angela thinks your nervousness is cute.

Without another word, Angela reaches to her side and undoes the belt around her waist, lowering it and the attached spellbook, then setting them aside near the foot of the bed. You feel a sense of shy embarrassment coming from her. She removes her gloves, growing more embarrassed. You feel a sense of embarrassment yourself, heightening the awkwardness for both of you.

_This isn’t quite right._ You think, as Angela sits on the edge of the bed, slips off her shoes, and pulls down one of the deerskin thigh-highs. _Something’s missing._

“Angela, hold up.” You say, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looks up at you in surprise, and you feel a sense of worry from her; a prelude to a disappointment that she’s expecting. You sit on the bed next to her, and she peers at you curiously, her face betraying a bit of the anxiety you can feel from her. You take a moment to collect your thoughts, not sure how to say what you’re feeling.

“It _is_ kind of sudden, isn’t it?” Angela murmurs, almost to herself. You glance up in surprise, although you should have expected her to have guessed how you were feeling with the spell linking your emotions to hers and vice-versa. “Maybe it’s unfair of me to expect so much of you so soon. It’s just…” she pauses and looks at you, and you feel a deep longing in your heart. “I’ve grown… lonely, living in this tower by myself.”

You feel her loneliness, and you feel a pang of sympathy; you’re no stranger to an empty bed at night either. You feel a growing sense of compassion for Angela, and taking a chance, you reach out and place an arm around her shoulder, then gently pull her over to lean against you. You feel a moment of surprise from her, followed by a sense that she’s deeply savoring the feeling.

“It occurs to me…” you say in a quiet, almost conversational tone of voice, “…that we _do_ have all night. There’s no real reason to rush.”

“I suppose not.” Angela agrees, snuggling up against your side and wrapping her arms around your waist. The sense of savoring the sensation of another person’s touch redoubles as you both enjoy the feeling of holding each other like this. You reach out and rub your hand against Angela’s upper arm, feeling the warmth of her skin, along with a faint echo of the shiver of enjoyment she feels at your touch.

After a few moments, Angela releases your waist, then moves over to sit in your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck and gazing up at you. She searches your eyes for a second, and you know exactly what she’s looking for, so you lean your head down close to hers and whisper in her ear.

“Angela?”

“Hmmm?” she asks wordlessly, a coy sense that she knows exactly what you’re going to ask emanating from her.

“Can I kiss you?” you breathe, heart beating fast.

“Not if I kiss _you_ first~” she whispers back into your ear, then leans back for a moment, eyes sparkling with a mischievous grin.

Then she leans in, kissing you fervently and pushing you backward onto the bed.


	4. Too Much

**Chapter 4: Too Much**

The kiss, combined with the spell linking your emotions and sensations, is _incredibly_ intense; your lips tingle with the pleasure of it and you feel an electric heat in your spine from Angela simply caressing the side of your face. Angela has pushed you back to lay diagonally across the bed, and she’s laying on top of you, her arms and legs to either side of you, but only stabilizing her as she presses down against you. It’s not that you _aren’t_ aroused, but Angela seems to be way ahead of you, and the spell lets you feel lust coming from her like a blast of heat from a quickly-opened oven. This in turn stokes your own desire, and between the linked emotions and the experience of Angela pressing down against your body and kissing you hungrily, you feel yourself growing hard almost immediately, and with startling rapidity. 

_As good as this feels, we might have a problem._ You think distractedly as another kiss sends warm tingles through your whole body. _If I’m *this* turned-on already, I don’t know how long I’ll last when we get more serious._ Supposedly Angela’s spell selected you partially because of your… stamina, but you don’t think she factored in how the linking spell might affect your performance. You resolve to try and get in as much foreplay as possible, hoping that doing so will avoid disappointing Angela later if the sensations are too intense.

Unfortunately, Angela seems to have other ideas. Laying on top of you and with only your loose pajama pants between you and her, she hasn’t failed to notice your body’s reaction to her. At first, she pauses and wiggles her hips back and forth against you, a teasing grin spreading across her face as she feels you begin to stiffen against her. Then she reaches down between her body and yours and presses the flat of her palm against the front of your pants. You feel a sense of satisfaction from her, and you raise an eyebrow at her expression.

“Just what I ordered.” She grins with a shrug, then slips her fingers into your waistband.

“Whoa, whoa,” you say, holding up a hand to forestall her, and she pauses, the tips of her fingers brushing against you inside your pants. You take a deep breath, then gently grasp Angela’s shoulders and push her back away from you a little bit, feeling her impatience as you do so. You roll yourself out from under her, then prop yourself up on an elbow, looking down at Angela laying on the bed. Your heart begins pounding even faster as you pause to watch her chest rise and fall with her excited breathing. You look up with difficulty and see Angela smirking at you when you meet her eyes.

“I know you’re just as eager to get going as I am.” She says with a knowing grin.

“Maybe a little _too_ eager,” you acknowledge as you trace a finger along the side of her neck and feel her shiver at the almost ticklish sensation. “This spell makes self-control pretty hard.”

“That’s not _all_ that it’s made hard~” Angela teases, glancing meaningfully at the perturbed fabric of your pajama pants. “Besides, who needs _self-control?”_ She sits up and looks like she’s going to pounce on you again, but you wave your hands in protest.

“We’re not even _undressed_ yet!” you admonish her, trying and failing to come up with another way to stall her. Angela stops with a blink, then her eyes grow sultry, an idea having occurred to her more obviously than if an actual lightbulb had appeared over her head.

“Well then,” she purrs, laying back down and gesturing to the front of her dress, “Undress me.” You note absently that her prior shyness has apparently vanished; the spell is compounding your mutual hunger for one another and working more effectively than any aphrodisiac. You reach uncertainly for the front of the corset-like top of the garment, but she halts your hand by the wrist as it draws close.

“Um,” you mumble uncertainly, “I thought you wanted-”

“You first.” She breathes, nodding at you and toying with the bottom edge of your shirt.

You oblige, pulling your shirt off, but leaving your pants on for now. Once you’ve tossed your shirt away, you hold your hands to either side, the gesture asking “ _Is this good enough, or shall I keep going?”_ Angela holds one of the intricate clasps running down the front of her dress between her index finger and thumb for a moment, biting her lip as she eyes you, and liking what she sees. She reaches out and grasps the side of your waist, then pulls you toward her.

You lay down beside her, propping yourself up on one elbow and tracing a finger slowly downward from the hollow of her neck down between her breasts and feeling a tingling echo of her pleasure at the touch, courtesy of the spell. You hook a finger into the front and examine the dress closely for a moment, then after another moment of fiddling, you manage to undo one of the clasps that runs down the front of the dress, revealing a glimpse of cleavage between the separated halves of the garment.

You don’t pull the dress open immediately. Instead, you slowly work your way downward, undoing each catch, but leaving the halves of the garment where they are. When you’ve unhooked the last one, you realize that the garment is still joined by the flap of fabric that drapes down between Angela’s legs. You probe your middle finger between the halves of the dress, feeling along the seam.

“How do you even get this thing _off_?” you wonder aloud. Angela chuckles at your frustration with her clothing.

“Awww,” she teases, “Are you having trouble getting- MMmmmmm~!” she cuts off mid-sentence with a sudden groan of pleasure. You’d been running your finger down the length of the seam along Angela’s skin inside the dress, and Angela apparently isn’t wearing any underwear. You pull your finger back, feeling a cool tingle from the moistness you’d encountered as you inadvertently brushed Angela’s lips on the way down.

“I can’t believe you’re wearing that outfit without any underwear.” You tease, a blush coloring your cheeks as the echo of the sensation caused by your accidental touch registers inside your mind.

“Hey,” Angela protests with a sleepy smile, “You aren’t wearing any either.”

“Yeah, but I’m wearing _pants_.” You shoot back, reaching a finger inside the top of the garment and tracing a finger along the underside of one of Angela’s breasts.

_God, I can *feel* how good that feels._ You think, savoring the faint echo of the sensation. The impression of the stimulation you’re giving Angela reaches you faintly, diminished like a sound heard from a long distance away, but you can tell that it feels good for her, and truth be told, it feels good for _you._

“Not for _long_.” Angela counters, grinning a predatory grin as you tease her. “Take them off, and maybe I’ll show you how to get me out of this dress~.”

“Deal.” You agree, pushing yourself up from the bed, then hooking a thumb into the waistband of your pants and pulling them down, then stepping out of them. Angela’s eyes twinkle as she watches your cock swing free of the fabric, and she bites a finger as you climb back onto the bed.

“For your information,” she murmurs, not raising her eyes from your groin and seeming distracted, “The dress is supposed to come off over my head.” She looks at you, then reaches inside the flap over her right breast and touches something. “…I’m not that patient though.” She adds. There’s a faint flash of light, and then her dress vanishes in a _poof_ of golden smoke. 

Behind you by the foot of the bed, Angela’s dress reappears neatly folded. You aren’t really paying attention to where the dress ended up though; you’re transfixed by the sight of the suddenly-naked woman laying posed on the bed before you. Your mind grows fuzzy from the combination of your excitement and Angela’s, and you experience a kind of tunnel-vision, your mind only able to appreciate details: Angela’s smooth leg stretched out luxuriously, her slender waist, rising to her full breasts, her crystal-blue eyes twinkling as she enjoys your stare.

You slide yourself over beside her, trying and failing to keep your gaze fixed on her eyes. She feels your increased excitement, and you feel her eagerness rising to match it, the mixture of emotions in your head driving you onward in a heady rush, demanding that you satisfy your need… demanding that you _both_ satisfy _both_ of your needs. You begin to angle yourself to enter her, and she angles her hips to receive you, but you manage to stop yourself… barely.

“Still not ready?” Angela asks, laying back down and looking at you calmly.

“ _Too_ ready.” You breathe, your heart thudding in your chest. “I want to make you feel good first.”

“Hehe, you _are_ a gentleman~.” She coos with a giggle, then shifts, pushing her breasts out for more attention.

“Trying to be.” You mutter, your instincts already miles ahead of your words. You lean close and reach over to stroke a breast with the hand not occupied propping you up. Using two fingers and very gentle pressure, you tease her right breast a few inches underneath the nipple, moving your fingers in light circles, then traveling upwards, between Angela’s collarbones, along her neck, finally resting underneath her chin. You pull her gaze up to yours, then lean down and kiss her softly.

Angela whimpers slightly into the kiss, eyes opening after a moment and wordlessly imploring you to continue. You indulge her, teasing each breast in turn, occasionally drawing your fingers across her prominent nipples with feather-light touches. You can feel her growing more and more aroused, both through the effects of the spell, and by the way she trembles. You aren’t sure if it’s her increasing arousal, or if you’re as touch-starved as she is, but the echoed feeling of your touches is growing stronger. The increased intensity of these sensations driving you to continue and giving you unique insight into which strokes Angela likes best.

After a few minutes which simultaneously pass in a blur and seem to stretch deliciously, she reaches up and catches your wrist, then pulls it slowly downward. She bites her bottom lip in a sultry grin as she does so, eyes half closed in an expression that manages to blend smugness and neediness. She pulls your hand down to the bottom of her abs, your fingers not quite brushing her lips yet, then pauses.

“Go slow,” she breathes, squeezing your wrist affectionately. “I don’t think I can handle too much right now.”

You lean in and kiss her briefly, then nod. She releases your wrist, and you carefully run your fingers down, pulling your index and ring fingers up slightly so only your middle finger trails against her flushed skin. You rest the heel of your palm on her front, and then draw your finger upward with exaggerated slowness, perhaps an inch to the outside of her lips. Angela moans softly, the sound little more than an exhaled breath. You repeat the motion, this time moving closer, the echoed sensation growing stronger.

You draw your finger upward between Angela’s inner and outer lips, finding her incredibly wet. At your touch, she moans even louder and squirms, eyes focusing on you hungrily. You feel a slow burst of sensation in your mind, this echo specifically located in your groin; if Angela is feeling a more intense version of the same sensation, you just found a good spot. You tease her again with her finger, and she rocks her hips instinctively, breathing shallowly. You continue, your fingers growing wet as you continue to stimulate her.

Unexpectedly, she reaches between your legs and wraps her fingers around the base of your cock. The sensation sends a shiver through you and Angela sighs as she savors the echo of that sensation, then slowly draws her hand along your length, finger swirling around the tip and finding it slick with your precum. She curls the finger around the head of your cock, the slickness allowing her to slide easily. The sensation combines with the echo of the stimulation you’re giving her, making the pleasure much more intense, and you groan.

“This might be my new favorite spell.” Angela moans, eyes closed in ecstasy.

“I don’t know how much more of it I can take.” You breathe, feeling a warm ache in your core; you’re already close to finishing, and Angela’s barely touched you.

“Okay,” Angela murmurs, sitting up. “I think you’ve earned a break; just lay back and relax.”

You do so, closing your eyes and breathing deeply, trying to calm yourself down as you’re caught up in the bliss of the sensations. You feel Angela shuffling next to you, and you sense a kind of sensual eagerness coming from her, but don’t understand it for a moment. Then you feel her lips close over your cock, and your eyes snap open, glancing down at her.

She’s poised beside you on all fours, leaning down over you with her pussy presented upward in your direction. As you watch, she swings a leg over you, her attention still focused on your cock. She grasps you around your base, holding your length steady, then swirls her tongue around your tip inside her mouth, and you groan, grabbing the sheets in two tightly-clenched fists.

_I’ve gotta stop her._ You think in a kind of eager panic as she strokes up and down along your length while still sucking gently on your tip. _She’s gotta feel how close I am… she has to…_ You try to say something, but Angela twists her tongue against you, and you reflexively crane your neck backward, and your protest comes out as an incoherent moan.

Angela either realizes how close you are and decides to finish you, or else she’s just caught up in the moment and decides to turn the sensation up a notch, because she slips a hand between her legs and begins to rub herself, just a handful of inches in front of your face. The spell dutifully blends the sensation of Angela pleasuring herself with the sensation of her pleasuring _you_ , and it’s suddenly too much for you.

“Mmmnnhh!” Angela grunts in surprise as you cum unexpectedly in her mouth.

“S-sorr-rrrroooaahhgod!” you start to apologize, mortified; you don’t think you’ve even made it two minutes. However, Angela isn’t finished with you, and she pumps her hand up and down along your shaft, still teasing your increasingly-sensitive tip with her tongue while rubbing herself with her other hand.

“MMMmmmnnnnnnnngggggggg!!!” Angela squeals after a few moments, mouth still closed around you. You feel a second surge of intense pleasure and gasp, briefly uncomprehending until you see a dribble of wetness issue from Angela as her legs tremble; she just came _too,_ and you’re feeling the echo of it _._ The sight is so hot that you forget your embarrassment for a moment until you feel Angela swallow, then release you with her lips. She turns herself around and cozies up against you, grinning. “That was fun!”

“Y-you don’t mind?” you ask in a quiet voice, embarrassed, both because you finished in Angela’s mouth, and because you came so soon. “I tried, but I feel like I didn’t last very long.”

“How long did you _expect_ to last?” Angela asks, smirking at you.

“I don’t know… twenty or thirty minutes?” you answer, rubbing Angela’s shoulder and enjoying her closeness. You feel inclined to sulk, but the double-strength afterglow makes it impossible.

“Ooooh, I’d like to see _that._ ” Angela says, her eyes twinkling as she radiates a sense of enjoyment. Seeing your expression, she places a hand on your chest. “Relax (name), you lasted longer under the spell than I expected. I warned you that it was intense; you only beat _me_ by a few seconds.”

“I guess,” you acknowledge, “I just… I feel like I can do better… if you’ll let me?” You feel a sense of amusement from Angela a fraction of a second before she laughs. “What?” you ask, confused.

“Oh, I’m not _nearly_ done with you yet.” She purrs with a smile that verges on sinister.

She reaches past you to a nightstand, fishes around inside a drawer for a moment, then withdraws a corked glass bottle filled with a transparent green liquid that glows faintly. She holds it out toward you, the contents glowing more brightly as they slosh inside the bottle.

“Drink this.” she instructs, grinning at you.


	5. Round Two

**Chapter 5: Round Two**

“What’s this?” you ask, taking the bottle and holding it up, inspecting the contents. A faint nebula of green light swirls inside the liquid, not quite in sync with the movement as you shake the bottle.

“Stamina potion.” Angela says with an implied “ _duh._ ” You give her a flat look, and she rolls her eyes, “It’ll allow you to recover instantly,” she explains. “No need to wait.”

“Who says I _need_ to wait?” you return, smugly. Angela looks at you with a puzzled expression for a moment before glancing down, noticing that you’re already hard again.

“My summoning spell chose well.” She says appreciatively, eyes dropping half closed in a catlike expression. She sits up and moves to climb onto you, apparently done with preliminaries. However, you place a hand on her shoulder and push her back down, eliciting a grumpy huff.

“I might last a _little_ longer the second time,” you explain, “But we might want to cancel the spell, or else this is probably going to be over really quick again.” You rub Angela’s shoulder fondly, casting your eyes downward. “I just… This time around, I want to do… better.”

“You will.” Angela says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “The first time the most intense; you’ll be more acclimated to the spell now. I want to see if your claim of 30 minutes was idle boasting~.”

“Wait,” you say, feeling a little sick as Angela’s words register. “Have you tried this _before?_ With some… other guy?” For some reason, you thought you were going to be Angela’s only guardian; you’d thought you were going to be special to her…

“You’re the first (Name).” Angela answers, smiling fondly at you.

“Then how do you know that the spell isn’t as intense after the first time?” you press.

“Because I tr-tried it on myself.” Angela stammers quietly, not meeting your eyes. She looks embarrassed again.

“On yourself…” you murmur, wheels turning in your head as you try to follow the logic of that statement. “How did _that_ work? You linked your mind with… your mind?”

“The spell works just fine if I touch both sides of the circle.” She mumbles defensively. “The problem is that it… feeds back on itself. I feel a double-strength echo of my own sensations.”

“That sounds like fun?” you supply, and Angela gets a dreamy look on her face.

“Yes… and also no. If the sensation is strong enough, it doubles, then doubles _again,_ over and over repeatedly. The first time I tried… touching myself…” she trails off, looking embarrassed again.

“Feedback.” You murmur to yourself with a nod, thinking of what happens when a microphone is set up too close to a speaker. “What happened?” you ask, amused as well as curious.

“I came so hard that I passed out.” Angela grumbles, “I woke up several hours later, head buzzing, muscles sore, and… somewhat dehydrated.” She blushes again, both with embarrassment, and with pleasure at the remembered sensation.

“W-wow.” You mutter absently, trying to imagine an orgasm powerful enough to make you pass out.

“Indeed.” Angela murmurs, seeming amused at your distracted expression. She crawls down the bed a little way on all fours, then sinks low, breasts brushing against the rumpled blanket and legs spreading wide. She raises her butt into the air, angling her pussy upward toward you, then looks back at you over her shoulder, her expression and posture both looking impatient and needy. “It works much better with two people however… or at least it _would,_ if you wouldn’t keep making me _wait._ ”

“Perish the _thought._ ” You chuckle, sitting up on your knees and lining yourself up with her between her splayed legs. Your cock has grown slightly soft after your first orgasm, the act of cumming and the lack of further stimulation taking their toll. However, as you watch Angela undulate her hips slightly in anticipation, you grow fully hard again, the sight and the lust you can sense coming from Angela affecting your body directly.

You plant your left hand on Angela’s left side, leaning down over the top of her. You lean in and kiss her neck softly, eliciting a quiet moan. Then Angela pushes back against you, the sudden move catching you at the wrong angle and pushing your cock up rather than into her. However, Angela’s slit is pressed against the underside of your cock, pinning it against your body, and she moves it up and down a few inches, sliding wetly against you, her need growing more intense. You puff out an excited breath, then lean in and whisper into her ear.

“Are you ready?” You ask, punctuating the question with another kiss on her neck.

“ _So_ ready~.” She answers, moaning the words as she grinds against you.

Angela doesn’t seem inclined to stop rubbing herself against you, so you sit up straighter and grasp her hips, pulling her forward and away from you with gentle but firm pressure. You release her right hip, then draw the head of your cock down against her lips, your firmness parting her slightly. Angela’s wetness slicks your head and you take a moment to tease her clit, feeling the firmness and the faint throbbing pulse of Angela’s arousal.

Not intending to tease her any further, you line yourself up then slowly push in with your hips. Angela’s pussy parts around your tip as it sinks into her, and she moans. You pull back after an inch or so, then push in again, further this time, letting Angela’s wetness fully slick you before beginning in earnest. You move slowly, being careful with each thrust until you’re sure you aren’t going to hurt her. Angela apparently doesn’t share your concern, and pushes back against you in the middle of one slow thrust, taking your entire length and sighing, her pussy squeezing you slowly.

“Stars above,” she moans, pulling herself forward, then slowly pushing back again, savoring every inch of you. “It’s one thing to write it into a spell, but it’s another matter entirely to _feel_ a cock like this~.”

“I’m glad you like it,” you breathe, sighing in pleasure as Angela squeezes you inside herself again.

The feeling of warmth inside her is almost startling, but it also feels amazing. Each time you push into her, Angela’s spell lets you feel both your own pleasure and some of hers. This makes for a more intense experience, but true to Angela’s word, your second experience with the spell isn’t quite as overwhelming. Instead, the spell gives you a supernatural sense of how best to pleasure Angela by letting you experience traces of how you’re making her feel.

The spell cuts Angela’s learning curve as well, and without any words, she swiftly intuits how to most effectively please _you_ as you see to her in turn. The two-way magical link between your minds makes both of you almost frenzied to please one another, and the shared sensations grow more and more intense as you both figure out what each other likes. Initially, Angela only sighs softly as you pleasure her. However, as you both grow more familiar with each other’s bodies and desires, she begins to moan more loudly, occasionally gasping some breathless encouragement.

You quickly intuit that Angela enjoys when you gently stroke her breasts as you make love to her, that she likes it when you kiss the back of her neck, and (somewhat to your surprise), that she enjoys it when you hold her hips, then gently stroke a hand up and down along her waist. You discover that you enjoy this last action as well, finding it strangely adorable that such a simple expression of affection could amplify Angela’s pleasure so profoundly. You gladly stroke her as you make love, occasionally leaning further forward to plant gentle kisses on the back of her neck and hollow of her shoulder.

For her part, Angela realizes that you like when she alternates between squeezing and relaxing herself around you, and after a few minutes, she starts doing this regularly in response to your touches, squeezing when you kiss her, then relaxing as you rub her. She also realizes that you like it when she audibly responds to your actions, and she continues to moan more loudly as the two of you start to really find your rhythm.

“Mmnnnaaahh~” she gasps sensuously as you adjust your position inside her slightly, “Right there, right _there_ , don’t stop~!”

You oblige, and Angela’s moans grow even louder over the next minute. Her obvious enjoyment is so arousing and distracting that you don’t realize that she’s climaxing until the spell sends an unmistakable surge of pleasure through you, and you feel her pussy squeeze wetly and convulsively. The sudden sensations almost finish _you_ as well, but you manage to hold on. You don’t want to be finished just yet. The thought prompts you to eye the stamina potion, wondering what would happen if you took it _immediately_ after you finish. You had considered doing just that if you’d finished before Angela, but that doesn’t appear to be necessary.

“Mmmmnhhhhhhh~” Angela sighs, turning her head to face you over her shoulder. “That was _good~._ ”

“Want to keep going?” you ask, pushing into her slightly to emphasize that you aren’t finished yet.

“Um, _yes?_ ” Angela says sarcastically, cocking an eyebrow at you as if to say _“Why would I want to *stop*?”_ However, in spite of her words, she pulls away from you, prompting a moment of confusion on your part before you realize that she just wants to change positions.

You sit back against the headboard, feeling a bit of relief at the chance to relax your legs. Angela wastes no time and moves in close, swinging one leg over you close enough that her breasts brush against your face as she settles herself. She reaches behind herself to grasp you and sighs softly as she rubs your tip back and forth along her slit for a few moments. You wrap your arms around her waist gently, and she places her hands on the headboard, then sinks down onto you, the pleasure of entering her causing both of you to moan at exactly the same time.

“I guess you like this too.” Angela says with a giggle at your simultaneous expressions of enjoyment.

“Seems like you’re having plenty of fun yourself.” You tease, raising your hips slightly to slide yourself into Angela and feeling how wet she is after her second orgasm of the night.

“Mmmmyyeahhh~” Angela moans dreamily as she begins to move, slowly raising and lowering her hips. You grin then pull her a little closer to you.

Angela’s carefully paced up-and-down movement slides you in and out of her pussy with a sensual relaxed slowness that paradoxically sets your heart to beating twice as fast as before. Every third or fourth time, she sinks all the way down over you, taking your entire length and rubbing her clit against you for a few seconds before resuming. The shared sensations and the sense of being _enjoyed_ like this drive you crazy. You slide your hands up to press gently against her back, pulling her against you with a sigh. She smiles down at you, and you pull your right hand in between the two of you, caressing the side of Angela’s right breast for a moment before raising the hand and resting it against the side of her neck, brushing the line of her jaw with your thumb.

“( _Name_ ),” she breathes in surprise as she feels your affection through both your caress and her spell.

She tilts her head slightly, and you reach up a little more to brush her cheek, your fingers reaching back to run through her hair. You savor the softness as Angela breathes out a gentle sigh and rubs her cheek against your hand affectionately, eyes closed with enjoyment. Angela opens her eyes after a moment, and her gaze meets yours. You crane your neck upward, and Angela leans in to kiss you, laying down against you and wrapping her arms around your neck as she does so.

The two of you enjoy a long string of soft kisses as you make love, both of you discovering that you ravenously crave the sensation of each other’s lips. When the two of you finally stop to catch your breath, Angela doesn’t pull her face away, but instead rests her forehead against yours. She opens her eyes in an expression of passion and delight that completely devastates you at such close range. The blue of her eyes flashes with an almost metallic sheen that you can see with surprising clarity as she smiles at you.

“God, you need to be careful with that.” You murmur, closing your eyes and savoring the physical sensations for a moment, feeling almost like your body is floating.

“Careful with what?” Angela asks, confused.

“Your _smile_.” You reply, favoring her with a grin of your own and another kiss. “You’re so pretty, you’re going to give me a heart attack… did you cast another spell or something when I wasn’t looking?”

“Nope~” Angela says, holding up a pair of innocent hands next to her shoulders and beaming at you as she continues to ride you.

“Then how come…” you murmur, almost to yourself as you lean in to kiss her again, “I can’t stop…” another kiss, “…kissing you?” you ask, a little out of breath and still wanting more kisses. The delicate feeling of Angela’s lips combined with the blend of affection and need as she kisses you back has you completely hooked.

“I don’t know…” Angela says with a smirk before leaning in for another delicious kiss. She continues to rest her forehead against yours, looking at you with amusement and affection and breathing a little heavily herself. “…but the feeling is mutual.” You feel an unexpectedly-strong surge of joy at the words, and Angela feels it through the spell, smiling a knowing smile at you.

“I guess I just… really like you Angela.” You murmur, feeling almost embarrassed by the admission but feeling like you have to say it anyway. Angela pauses for a moment, still pressing down with her hips and grinding herself against you a little, but not riding you as dramatically.

“I… I really like you too (Name),” she says, blushing visibly. “More than I expected to honestly; I thought…” she gestures vaguely to encompass the two of you together like this. “… _this_ would take a lot more getting used to.” She raises herself almost all the way off of you, then sinks back down, eyes closed, savoring every inch of your cock as she does so. “Instead, it feels… natural.” You place a hand on one hip, caressing her thigh with the other.

“Natural.” You nod in agreement, knowing exactly what she means. “Like we’ve been lovers for years already.”

“Mmmmmmm~” she moans in wordless agreement, grinding her clit against you, eyes rolling back for a moment before she focuses back on you. “Are you close to finishing?”

“I’m still good for a while.” You respond, relieved that your normal stamina has returned after your first experience with the spell.

“Good~” Angela murmurs, then leans in to whisper in your ear, “Because I think it’s your turn to be on top.” She pulls back with a grin, then raises herself off of you and moves back to let you up.

Angela lays down on her stomach with her arms folded in front of herself and her legs spread wide, feet pointing into the air. You line yourself up behind her, teasing her with your finger for a few moments. However, you catch yourself gazing at the back of her head with a little bit of disappointment. You reach out and caress Angela’s upturned butt, running your hand up to her waist, then back down to a thigh as you try to decide what to say.

“What is it?” Angela asks, sensing your hesitation.

“I…” you begin, feeling yourself blush with embarrassment. “I kinda want to see your face still… is that okay?”

“Aw~” Angela giggles, then rolls over onto her back. “Yes!” She spreads her legs wide, reaching up to fondle her breasts with both hands as she smiles at you as if to say “ _Better?”_

_God, that smile…_ you think as you reach out and grasp her hips, then pull her closer to you. You place your hands to either side of Angela and lean down over her. She reaches down, angling your cock and drawing you along the length of her slit once more, wetting you immediately. She gives you a slight tug, and you push your hips forward, feeling the sensuous heat engulf you as you spread Angela’s pussy and enter her. Angela moans with enjoyment, and you puff out a ragged exhalation yourself at the feeling, noticing that you’re growing more sensitive.

“Oooooooohhhh~” Angela moans as you pull back, then thrust into her again, deeply this time. Without the spell, you might be afraid that you’d hurt her, but you sense an echo of her delight at the feeling, and you’ve learned to interpret the almost pained look on her face for what it is: overwhelming pleasure.

“Good?” you ask, smiling and repeating the motion.

“G- _great~!”_ Angela confirms, arching her neck back against the bed. You feel a pressure against your back, and realize that Angela has wrapped her legs around you, raising the angle of her hips slightly. Your next thrust elicits an even longer moan of pleasure, sensation of what you’re doing to her reaching you via the spell. “Stars above~,” Angela gasps, reaching up to grab your waist as you thrust again. “This position is _amazing~!”_

You grin, then reach one hand down between you and Angela. She doesn’t notice at first, but her eyes go wide as you begin stroking along the outside of her lips with your thumb. You keep your fingers resting on her front, and gently draw your thumb along the parted flesh of her lips, barely brushing her clit. In response, you feel her pussy squeeze, and her eyes roll back again as she breathes heavily, her breasts rising dramatically as she squirms in pleasure on the bed.

“M-more~.” She breathes, stammering out in a voice that’s almost a whisper.

You continue slowly thrusting into Angela while teasing her entrance and her clit with your thumb, feeling echoes of the strong pleasurable sensations adding to your own, which are growing stronger. You begin to feel yourself getting more aroused, and you feel the building ache in your core and shortness of breath that signal your own climax approaching. Angela evidently feels this as well because she looks up at you with a needy expression of anticipation.

“Ahhhnnn~, hahhhhh~, t-together~” she gasps, fixing you with a hungry stare. You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you nod once then lean down and kiss Angela, your action driven by your own desperate need. Your lips part slowly, and Angela’s eyes open halfway, staring at you appreciatively for a few heartbeats. “Ohhh~ Oh stars, _OhhhhhhhHHHH~!!!”_ the first words coming out as a whisper, and the final moan rising to a wail she cums.

In the same instant, you feel yourself hurtle past your own threshold. You start to pull out, but Angela tightens her legs around your waist and holds you inside her. Your surprise delays your release for an instant, then you flex involuntarily and you cum explosively inside Angela. She moans and pulls you down against her as she feels you release inside her and her pussy convulses, tightly squeezing rhythmically upward as her own orgasm continues, growing more intense as she feels you finish inside her.

The spell hits both of you with the double-strength ecstasy of the combined orgasm, the sensations unbelievably strong. You and Angela are tossed about like bits of driftwood in a hurricane, both of your bodies reacting to the incredible climax. Angela’s pussy clamps down on you for a moment in an incredibly tight convulsion and she gasps out a series of quick short exhalations, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around you in a hug. Your cock twitches, and you release another hot burst of cum into her already dripping pussy, and then another, and still _another_ , your abs aching and your normal control abandoning you completely in the face of such overwhelming pleasure.

Your cock twitches again, and you shudder several times, your body trying to cum even more, the sensation almost painful. You push completely into Angela, and feel a welling wetness as your release overflows, both your thrust and her squeezing leaving no extra room inside her. Angela’s climax continues for what seems like an incredibly long time, the tightening sensations growing too intense for you as you grow painfully sensitive from your orgasm. You try to pull back, but Angela’s legs remain convulsively tight on you, so close that you can feel her toes curl.

The sensations are too strong for you to remain quiet, and you let out a low-pitched moan, then reach out and wrap your arms around Angela’s shoulders. You bury your face against her neck and breathe deeply. Finally, Angela relaxes her legs from around your waist and you pull yourself out of her, feeling her continue to pulse and squeeze as you do so. You roll to the side, still holding her in your arms, and she snuggles against you and trembles, also too shaken for words for a few moments.

Finally, she looks up at you, her expression dazed. You think you can actually see a hint of happy tears glistening at the corners of her eyes as she gives you a lopsided smile, both her chest and your own still puffing and out-of-breath from the experience. You reach one hand up and stroke the hair beside her face with the backs of your first two fingers, and she catches your hand, then clasps it against her cheek with her own.

“Can I kiss you some more?” you ask before you even finish forming the words in your head.

Angela’s response is to press herself against you, hooking her legs into your own and whimpering as she places hands on both sides of your face and pulls your lips to hers.


	6. Afterglow

**Chapter 6: Afterglow**

You and Angela spend an indetermined amount of time simply kissing and holding one another, the minutes slipping away unnoticed by either of you; Neither of you caring about anything besides each other. Evidently, the best sex of either of your lives comes with the added bonus of world-class afterglow, and you feel like someone has dipped your brain in warm honey. Each kiss and caress send shivers through you, your sensitive skin registering each affectionate touch with incredible clarity. The warmth of Angela’s body against yours feels delicious and you hold her against you needily, not ready to let go of her yet.

_I don’t want to go home_. You think, inhaling and smelling the sweet cinnamon scent of Angela’s hair. _I don’t want to get out of this *bed*. I don’t want this moment to end… not ever._

“Um,” Angela mumbles, interrupting your train of thought. You look down and meet her eyes. The spell seems to have either concluded or else the two of you blew it out somehow at the end, so you can’t tell for sure, but Angela looks nervous about something.

“What is it?” you ask softly, brushing a lock of blonde hair out of Angela’s face with your thumb.

“C-can I ask something totally unreasonable of you?” She murmurs in a quiet voice, sounding unsure and a little fragile.

“Whatever you want.” You reply, momentarily surprised at the blank check you just gave her. The feeling passes swiftly though; you feel like you’d do anything to make Angela happy right now.

“Would you stay the night here with me?” She requests, looking at you with wide pleading eyes and clasping her hands together. You have to stop yourself from laughing.

“I was actually going to ask _you_ if that would be okay.” You chuckle softly. Angela lets out a breath and closes her eyes with a contented smile, looking relieved.

“I-I’m glad. I’m… not ready to let go of you yet.” Angela murmurs. “I can send you back in the morning.”

“I’m not ready to let go of you either.” You whisper in her ear, holding her tightly.

The two of you lay there silently for another few minutes, just holding each other and feeling warm and close together. However, even with each other’s body heat, the room is beginning to grow cold now that you aren’t exerting yourselves, and you’re both laying on top of the blanket. You feel Angela begin to shiver and decide that enough is enough.

“We have to get up.” You announce regretfully.

“I d-d-don’t w-want t-to.” Angela grumbles in a shivering voice with her face pressed into your shoulder.

“It’s just for a minute.” You soothe, rubbing Angela’s shivering shoulder. “I promise I’ll warm you back up?”

“Hmmm… Deal.” Angela says after a moment’s hesitation. She releases you and the two of you get up, both a bit unsteady on your feet after your exertions. You pull the blanket off the bed, then gesture for Angela to lay down. She does, and you throw the blanket over her, pulling it straight and tucking it under her chin. You’re unable to resist the urge to lean down and kiss her, but you keep the kiss brief before pulling away and gesturing around the room at the still-lit candles and lamps.

“I’ll get the lights.” You offer, and turn to fiddle with the lamp beside the bed. However, Angela shakes her head with a smile and points at a chest on the other side of the room.

“Don’t worry about the lights,” she says with a wave, “In that chest; grab two small blue potions, and the big purple one with yellow lightning in it.”

You walk over to the chest and lift the iron-bound wooden lid. Inside is a bewildering array of colored liquids in glass bottles of various sizes. Some glow steadily, some pulse and flash, or contain sparkling motes of light like fireflies or flickering arcs of lightning. Each has a magical symbol either etched into the glass, stamped into the stopper, or glued to a piece of paper wrapped around the bottle. After a few moments search, you locate a large pile of glowing blue ampules about the size of your pinkie finger, and a purple potion the size of a can of soda. You hold them up for Angela, and she nods and waves you back over to the bed.

“So…” you begin, nodding at the potions, “You wanted a nightcap?”

“No,” Angela giggles as she sits up, then points at the purple potion. “Drink that; it’ll permanently increase your strength and speed in combat. It takes a couple days to take full effect, so you may as well drink it now.”

You pull a glass stopper from the bottle, then hold the glass up to your eye to watch yellow lightning flashing around inside the bottle like a trapped snake. An _angry_ trapped snake. You turn a questioning eye to Angela, and she gives you a shooing wave of her hands, motioning you to get on with it. You put the edge of the bottle to your lips and take a small sip, expecting pain, and to feel your muscles convulse from the electricity. Instead, you taste a surprising sweet-sour flavor that you recognize immediately.

“Is this… _grape_ -flavored?” you ask, turning to Angela in disbelief.

“What? You don’t like grape?” Angela asks, seeming offended.

“No no, it’s not that…” you mumble, looking at the potion as it sparks menacingly. “I just expected it to be… I don’t know, _spicy_ or something.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Angela smirks at you with a raised eyebrow. You toss back the rest of the strength potion in a few quick gulps, expecting to feel a tingle or sense of power from the concoction. Aside from the flashing lightning, it doesn’t seem any different from ordinary grape juice.

_I guess she *did* say it would take a while to take effect,_ you think, _I probably won’t feel anything right away._

“What about these two?” you ask, holding up the small ampules. Angela takes one and pulls the small cork out, then opens her lips and tosses it back with a dainty swig. She smiles at you, then blows a breath in your face. You smell a soft minty fragrance.

“Got it.” You chuckle, uncorking your own ampule and drinking it. “Fresh-breath potion, huh?

“It also makes your teeth whiter.” Angela says with a falsely modest shrug and a smile which reveals a flash of admittedly immaculate teeth. Then she reaches out a hand and snaps her fingers.

At the same instant as the snap, every candle and lamp flame in the room goes out, leaving Angela faintly illuminated by the moonlight falling onto the bed from the window. The sudden decrease in light disorients you for a moment, but your eyes gradually adjust enough to see Angela snuggled under the blanket with her face lit in profile by the moonlight. She smiles at you, then raises a corner of the blanket and pats the bed beside her, expression imploring you to hurry before she gets cold.

You quickly slide yourself in under the blankets, reaching for Angela as you do so. The cool feeling of the fabric along with the warmth of Angela’s skin are so wonderful that you exhale a soft groan of enjoyment. Angela grins at the sound, then wraps her arms around your neck and scooches up against your body.

“Hmmmm~” she sighs as she snuggles her head into the crook of your neck, “This feels nice.”

Your right arm is caught underneath Angela’s head and you don’t want to disturb her, so you reach over and run the fingers of your left hand through her hair affectionately, prompting more playful snuggles from Angela. You lean your head to the side, feeling Angela’s hair against your cheek and inhaling the smell of it. You continue to stroke your hand along the side of Angela’s head, down to her shoulder and along her upper arm, savoring the simple feeling of intimacy. Angela strokes the back of your head and your neck, seeming to like the feel of you just as much as you like the feel of her.

The two of you simply relax fully into each other’s arms, and time passes around the two of you like water flowing around a stone in a stream. Neither of you pays any attention; you’re both just savoring the warmth and familiarity of two lovers holding one another in their arms. The moon moves in an arc across the sky, its light shifting with imperceptible slowness as the two of you cuddle together. Neither of you speak much, preferring a combination of soft kisses and simply gazing into each other’s eyes from time to time.

Finally, you look down from resting your head against Angela’s and discover that her eyes are closed, and she’s breathing softly, having fallen asleep against you. You smile fondly, thinking that the relaxed expression of sleep on her face is impossibly cute. You brush aside a lock of hair, exposing one of her closed eyes, then kiss Angela tenderly on the forehead before laying back against the pillow.

You stare at the ceiling for a few minutes, savoring a warm and fuzzy feeling that owes part of its existence to the warmth of Angela and the blankets, part to simple afterglow, and a not-insignificant part to what you can only describe as a growing sense of love for Angela. A part of you thinks it silly to feel so strongly for her after such a short time, but no matter how you look at it, you can’t deny the feeling. You’re eager to explore this relationship and see how things go.

This sense of eagerness keeps you awake for another thirty or forty seconds, but the feel and sound of Angela breathing slowly against you has an incredibly soothing effect, and you fall asleep almost immediately. You don’t dream; what would be the point? Nothing your subconscious mind could dredge up would compare to where you already are. Instead, you simply drift into unconsciousness with a slight smile of contentment on your lips.


	7. Return

**Chapter 7: Return**

You wake up slowly, a sensation along the side of your head gradually intruding on your sleep until your mind realizes that something is happening and you open your eyes. The feeling turns out to be Angela holding your face in her hands and looking down at you. She’s lit from behind by the first pinkish rays of the sunrise outside the window, and the affectionate smile on her face and the beauty of the sunlight playing through her slightly-messy hair is so stunning that you can’t breathe for a moment. Luckily, Angela speaks first, giving you a chance to regain control of yourself once more.

“Good morning~” She murmurs softly, eyes twinkling in silent humor at what must have been an interesting expression on your face. That… or maybe you drooled on yourself or something.

“Good morning yourself.” You grin, reaching out to stroke Angela’s waist under the blanket. You’re surprised for a moment when you realize that she’s still naked, but she doesn’t seem to mind the caress. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept that well.” you muse, “Not once in my entire life.”

“Yes, me too.” Angela murmurs, then continues with a straight face but a tell-tale twinkle in her eye, “It’s almost as if we both felt relieved of some kind of _tension_.”

“Maybe so,” you agree with a smirk, then lean up and kiss Angela briefly. She returns the kiss, eyes going closed and hands grabbing you eagerly for a few moments. Then she pulls back.

“As much as I would like to continue this, I’m afraid I wouldn’t get anything accomplished today unless I send you back.” She sighs, looking regretful. She glances at you for a moment with a rueful grin “ _Some_ of us won’t have the luxury of simply going back to sleep after I send you back.” It takes you a moment to realize what she’s implying, but you vaguely remember her mentioning that time won’t have changed much back in your world; it will still be the middle of the night when you return. 

“I’d offer to make you breakfast in bed,” you murmur, smiling a little sadly yourself, “…but I don’t know if I’d be able to work the kind of stove you have in this world.”

“Probably not.” Angela agrees with a giggle, “Especially since I usually conjure my ingredients magically. I shudder to imagine what you’d end up making if you used what you found in my pantry.”

“N-noted.” You say queasily. “Maybe I can… I don’t know… _bring_ something next time?” You pause for a moment then, a little unsure of yourself, you ask, “There… _will_ be a next time, right?”

“The potion won’t finish taking effect for another week,” Angela says, looking upward as if thinking about it, “I won’t be able to summon you for combat until at _least_ then.” You start to feel hurt until you catch Angela peeking at you slyly out of the corner of her eye. You glare at her, and she loses her poker face and laughs, “Of _course,_ ” she continues as if just now realizing something, blushing slightly, “…there _are_ things besides combat you could be good for.” She gives you another teasing look, “Laundry… Cleaning the floors…”

You reach over and flick a finger gently against the center of her forehead.

“I’ll _gladly_ help you out around your… uh… tower. As long as I get to spend some more time with you.” You grumble, then blush as you realize that you’ve spoken a little more frankly than you’d intended. Angela, for her part, beams at the comment.

“I’d like that.” She says, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, then she gestures to the summoning circle. “In the meantime though, I think it’s time to send you back. Are you ready?”

“Uh…” you mumble and glance down at your still-naked body under the covers. “I might want to put my clothes back on…”

“Why?” Angela asks, climbing over you and standing up near the foot of the bed. She snaps her fingers and a flash of golden light causes you to shield your eyes for a second. When you look back, she’s clothed again. “It’s not as if you’re going somewhere public; I’m sending you back to your bed.”

“Let’s just chalk it up to me not wanting to lose my _pants_ while I’m travelling between dimensions.” You say dryly, standing up and pulling on the aforementioned pants. “I don’t want some cosmic monstrosity stopping by to complain about me leaving my clothes lying around the Void.”

“That’s not how it works.” Angela smirks at you, her expression a little patronizing. However, she waits until you’re finished getting re-dressed before motioning to the center of the circle again. You walk over, feet a little cold on the stone floor, and stand in the center of the circle. Angela begins to reach down to touch the edge of the circle, but suddenly you realize there’s one more thing you have to do before you leave.

“Wait!” you plead, holding out a hand.

“What is it?” Angela asks, looking up at you curiously but pausing in the act of reaching to touch the edge of the circle. You kneel inside the circle, bringing your face level with Angela’s.

“C-can I kiss you once more before I leave?” you ask, your voice embarrassed. In response, Angela leans across the boundary, grabbing your face in her hands and kissing you so passionately that you find yourself swaying a little when she pulls away.

“Until next time~.” She murmurs, blushing and smiling at you. A glow lights her face from below, and it takes you a second to realize that she’s activated the summoning circle.

The glow intensifies for a second, then you feel an off-balance lurch in your stomach, and the room seems to tilt crazily around you. Angela vanishes, sucked down into a pinprick before disappearing, along with all the other furniture in the room. The walls invert and distort, then expand back outward into normal painted drywall. Something bumps you upward from below, and you startle for a moment before you realize that it’s your mattress re-materializing. The last thing to reappear is your blanket, which unfolds itself out of the air over your head and falls on top of you, blinding you for a moment until you struggle your way free.

You sit there in your darkened bedroom for several long moments, simply staring into space. If Angela had sent you back before you’d woken up, you would have feared that the whole thing had just been a dream; it seems so unreal to suddenly be back in your room with the Halloween moonlight shining down on you. You reach out with a hand and swipe at the air, part of you hoping to feel Angela still sitting invisibly in front of you somehow. Instead of encountering warm skin or soft hair, your fingers feel only the cool night air.

“It wasn’t a dream.” You mutter to yourself, laying down on your bed and staring at the ceiling, feeling lonely, and almost frustrated at how easily your mind has started to doubt what you just experienced. A few minutes pass before the uncertainty returns, and you grit your teeth. “It wasn’t a dream, it _wasn’t_ a drea-”

_sssswiisshhhPOP-Thump._

A sound snaps you out of your thoughts. You peer over the edge of the bed to see a small bundle on the carpet in the middle of the room. You climb out of bed and find a folded piece of parchment about the size of a mailing envelope tied together with red twine. The front of the parchment has your name written on it in an elegant flowing cursive script, and the back is sealed closed with red wax stamped with a highly-ornate letter Z.

Something small and relatively heavy shifts inside the package as you tilt it, telling you that it isn’t just a letter. You untie the twine and after a moment of hesitation, you pop open the wax seal with your thumbnail and unfold the package. As soon as you unfold the bottom flap, your cell phone drops out into your hand. It takes you a moment to recognize the device, the surreal means of delivery seeming at odds with the familiar shape and weight of an otherwise ordinary phone. 

_Oh crap,_ you think. _I must have forgotten my *phone* at Angela’s… I wonder what she thought of it when she found… what’s this?_

You realize with a start that the package also contains a few pieces of paper folded together. Opening the first, you see that it’s a letter.

_“(_ ** _Name)_** _,”_ The letter begins, the elegant cursive letters exactly matching what you’d expect Angela’s handwriting to look like. Detecting a faint cinnamon scent, you hold the letter to your nose, then sigh as you discover that Angela has scented the letter with her perfume. You take a moment to savor the mental picture of Angela the smell conjures in your mind before continuing to read.

**_(Name),_ **

****

**_I had such a wonderful time with you last night! It took significant effort of will on my part to keep myself from summoning you straight back to me the moment you disappeared. Since the whole experience must have seemed strange to you, possessing no magic, I decided to send this letter as a keepsake to make your time apart from me easier to bear. I hope this letter finds you well, and not too resentful of your banishment, temporary though it may be._ **

**_Enclosed with this letter, you will find two items. The first is your image recording device. It appears to have fallen out of your garments at some point. I have studied it to some extent, and must confess that I find the device somewhat intriguing, although less because of its capabilities, and more because it puts me in mind of you. Although I find myself wanting a keepsake to remember you by, I suspect the device is of great sentimental value, and thus, I have returned it. I Will require a keepsake from you next time we meet. X  
The second enclosed item is a spell of my own design. Although your world evidently either has no magic, or is unaware of how to Use magic, I_ ** **_’_ ** **_ve imbued enough energy into the substance of the spell for it to work without additional power. Please finish reading this letter before trying to activate it, as it Is a One-Time Use item, and improper handling could render it worthless to you. To activate the spell, perform the following steps:_ **

  1. **_Place the sheet facing upwards with at least three feet clear in every direction and six feet of vertical distance overhead._**
  2. **_Point the line trailing to the edge of the paper North._**
  3. **_Pour a circle of salt or fine sand three feet in diameter around the spell, and connect the two ends of the circle by a straight line to the line at the top of the spell._**
  4. **_Place your fingers on the circle of salt or sand, and say my Full Name._**



**_Performing these actions will summon Me to Your world. If I am not too bold in assuming that you feel about me how I feel about you, you will be tempted to do this at once. I ask that you refrain for now, as it is much more economical for Me to summon You. I do not plan on leaving you lonely long enough for the condition to become arduous. X_ **

**_Although I originally intended to summon you primarily as a guardian against harm to my physical self, I confess that I find myself yearning for your return, not only for the sake of my body, but for my heart as well. I look forward to the continuation of this relationship, and I will keenly feel each second we are apart._ **

****

**_Yours,_ **

****

**_Angela Ziegler. X X X X_ **

**_P._ ** **_S. I managed to determine how to activate your image recording device. I Suggest you examine my handiwork at your convenience. X X_ **

You read the letter with growing excitement. The strange capitalized X’s puzzle you at first, until you remember that even in your world, such marks have been used in the past to designate a kiss. Partially, your excitement comes from imagining the possibility of summoning Angela to your world. However, the greater portion is simple relief and joy at the letter’s contents and tone; evidently Angela feels as strongly about you as you find yourself feeling about her. You have to suppress a chuckle; this will simultaneously be the best and worst long-distance relationship in history. You’re reminded of a quote you read once about other dimensions:

“Other worlds are less than an atom’s thickness away from us at all times… just not in a direction that you can travel.”

_That’s truer than they realized,_ you think, bemused. _Except people *can* evidently travel in those directions._

You fold the letter reverently, then set it on the nightstand. The next sheet of paper is the spell, a complex series of circles, symbols, and arcane geometry inscribed onto a sheet of thick parchment. Holding the spell up to the moonlight, you see a metallic shimmer; the ink used to inscribe the spell appears to be pure gold. It’s difficult to detect, but the gold symbol seems to shine as if reflecting light, even when in the dark, perhaps indicating the imbued magic Angela mentioned. You carefully re-fold the spell and place it on your nightstand along with the letter.

You sit there for a long minute, simply grinning like a fool. You pick up the letter and re-read it, feeling a warm sensation in your heart every time your eyes pass over the capital-X kiss-marks. When you get to the end, you re-read Angela’s post-script, and glance over at your phone.

_She figured out how to turn it on?_ You think, reaching for the device. _I don’t have a lock screen set up, but that’s still kind of impressive. I wonder what she did to it?_

You try to wake your phone out of sleep mode, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that the battery is dead. Since from your point of reference you’ve just gotten up from a full night’s sleep recently, you get up and plug your phone into the charger at once, having decided to investigate in lieu of going to bed… as if you could possibly sleep with this mystery tickling at your brain. After another anxious minute, the screen lights up, showing your normal background and icons.

_She called it an ‘Image Recording Device’_ , you think, turning the phone over in your hands, letting it dangle from the charger cable, and examining it. _Does that mean…?_

You open the phone’s camera folder and start flipping through. At first you find only normal pictures: A shopping list you’d wanted to remember, a picture of a house decorated for Halloween, a screenshot from a game you’d been playing, a sunset… all standard stuff. Then you swipe left and reach the picture of Angela you’d taken shortly after arriving. Her shy smile makes you grin fondly. You swipe again, and see the picture of the summoning circle and pictures of the inside of Angela’s tower, which you’d forgotten about until now. The next swipe however is a stone floor and the corner of Angela’s wooden bed captured at the edge of the frame, as if by a severely untrained photographer.

_She figured out how to use the camera!_ You think in shock.

The next few pictures are similar; accidental shots taken as Angela learned how to work the phone’s camera. However, eventually swiping left on a more deliberate-looking picture of the window in Angela’s tower, you find a… selfie. It’s a picture of Angela, smiling into the camera from arm’s length and looking adorable. Several more similar pictures follow: Angela eating breakfast, Angela waving from in front of a cauldron with an ominous green smoke billowing out, Angela lying on her bed, holding the camera up above her and winking,

_She’s from another freaking *universe*, and she’s already got a better selfie game than I’ve ever had._ You think with a rueful smile, _Must be a girl thing._ You swipe left once more, and choke in surprise; the next photo shows Angela laying on the bed again, biting the tip of her index finger and favoring the camera with a sly smile. Her other hand is held in front of her holding a small piece of parchment with the words “ **HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!** ” written on it.

The parchment is about the size of her palm, is held in front of her groin, and is the only thing Angela is wearing in the final picture.


End file.
